


Handprints Linger Until Hands Replace Them

by star_shines



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Anal Sex, Bokuto Koutarou Being Bokuto Koutarou, Custom Dildos, Dirty Talk, Keiji's vague yandere-esque tendencies, M/M, Married Akaashi Keiji/Bokuto Koutarou, Masturbation, Sex Toys, sexy photos, this is a Bokuto appreciation blog ONLY
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-13
Updated: 2020-11-13
Packaged: 2021-03-10 00:14:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,476
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27535099
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/star_shines/pseuds/star_shines
Summary: In hopes of luring a defeated Bokuto back to bed, Akaashi puts on a little show.
Relationships: Akaashi Keiji/Bokuto Koutarou
Comments: 16
Kudos: 310
Collections: NSFW BokuAka Week 2020





	Handprints Linger Until Hands Replace Them

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for @bright_stars_45 on insta and their Sexy BokuAka Week! I didn't base this off any specific prompt, but I wanted to contribute a little.

Keiji almost regrets thinking so, but Koutarou fucks like he plays volleyball.

First and foremost, he’s really fucking good at it. Keiji has spent much of his life, breathless in bed, all rational thought beyond fucked out of him, clutching sheets and panting heavily.

Koutarou has put in the hours, the practice, and when he gets focused on one thing, he will do it until he can do it perfectly.

He gets that look of concentration he has, eyes all sharp, smile even sharper, slitting Keiji’s throat and concentration. It kills him.

Koutarou has so much fun, and he makes every day fun for Keiji. Even setting aside all of the times Keiji’s brains have turned to goop from overstimulation, there are so many more moments where Keiji is laughing harder than he ever has, smiling wider than anyone else has ever seen him, because even Koutarou fucking is the same silly adorable person Keiji had fallen in love with.

Koutarou will try anything once. Koutarou cracks jokes, he asks questions both painfully mundane and surprisingly insightful.

He’s always so, so thrilled to see Keiji, that Keiji can’t help but be ten times as thrilled to see Koutarou.

There’s also the other thing.

“Don’t give me anymore kisses!” Koutarou shouts, literally throwing himself off the bed to crawl into the closet.

Keiji loves Koutarou. He loves Koutarou more than most people would think is sane. He loves Koutarou so much that he almost suffocates with how much it overwhelms him. All his love for Koutarou couldn’t possibly fit in one human body, it presses against his chest and crowds his organs and Keiji nearly breaks in his inability to express it.

So Keiji loves Koutarou even in these moments, when Keiji’s dick is hard, his lips are swollen, and his bed is so, so, so empty.

This love for Koutarou does not stop his eye from twitching. This love does not stop him from pressing the heels of his palms into his eyes, or from groaning loudly in frustration.

“I’m the worst!” Koutarou’s muffled cries call from underneath the laundry he’s buried himself in. “I can’t please you! Find another lover! I don’t deserve you!”

Keiji wills his pulse to slow, because despite what Koutarou must be thinking, their evening had been going _well_. Keiji had personally felt like he was well on his way to a nice round of love-making with his partner.

Unfortunately, sometimes this happens. Stutters during sex are normal. An “oof, too hard” here, an “ah, ah, teeth” there. That is normal. Usually it doesn’t bother Koutarou too much, because Keiji is as obsessed with Koutarou’s body as he is the person, and he lets Koutarou know as loudly and as often as possible.

Or sometimes, Koutarou, on occasion, will forget how to fuck. Keiji can never decide how funny the truth of it is. Is it funny because Koutarou is so, so good at it that he can trip up, despite himself? Is it funny because it makes Keiji think of Koutarou forgetting how to hit cross spikes in high school matches? Is it instead absolutely devastating for Keiji who at this very moment no longer has Koutarou’s warmth in and around him?

Sometimes Koutarou goes soft too early. He goes unexpectedly limp, or his brain gets too loud for him, all of his insecurities gripping tight and pulling him back. Keiji loves this Koutarou, too.

Keiji sighs and wills himself not to cry, even just a little, no matter how badly he wants Koutarou’s dick inside him at the moment.

He takes a deep breath to help clear enough thoughts to make room for the brain power needed to weigh his options.

Option A: Comfort Koutarou. Keiji knows that Koutarou has had a lot of stress on him lately, and there’s no shame in breaking for tonight. He knows they had left Koutarou’s most favoritest, most fluffiest, most owl-patternedest blanket on the couch, and it would only take a second to go grab it. He can wrap Kou in it and sit with him in the closet until one or both of them overheat. He can pet his hair and tell him how much he means to Keiji. They had bought new ice cream, too, which he can feed Kou after they make it back to the bed. It has a unique spicy jalapeno raspberry flavor that Kou wants to try. Keiji loves how Koutarou always wants to try something new.

Option B: He could try and coax Koutarou back into bed. Some sexy sweet-nothings, a saucy wink. Sometimes that’s what Koutarou wants and needs. He’ll get hard before he realizes it, and his insecurities will drip away before he remembers to have them, until Koutarou is raw and powerful and concentrated. Keiji loves the nights he could properly worship Koutarou’s body. His biceps, his back, his thighs, his cock, his lips, his hands… Keiji sighs, yes, sometimes that is right for Kou, when he needs his confidence built back up, his ego (and god, Keiji always hopes he doesn’t stop at just the ego) needs to be stroked.

Option C: Honestly, the one Keiji seems most inclined to follow at the moment. He could continue without Kou. Koutarou may get back into the mood, or he might not. Sometimes he does, and sometimes he doesn’t. Keiji can always correct back to A or B if need be.

Keiji huffs.

“I’m never having sex again,” Koutarou sniffs from the closet.

“Is that so?” Keiji asks, twisting his back to reach into the bedside table.

“Yeah,” Koutarou pouts, “Never ever.”

“Are you absolutely sure about that?” Keiji asks, shifting through the drawer.

“Yes,” Koutarou says.

“Oh, that is too bad,” Keiji says dryly.

Koutarou sniffles.

“A-ha,” Keiji cheers in dry victory, pulling his prizes out from the mess.

Koutarou’s ears perk up.

Keiji hums happily to himself.

He spreads in front of him a vast array of sexy photos he had taken of Koutarou with an instant print camera. Keiji had requested them, and they had made a day of taking them. Keiji knows that there are photos of himself in the other side table for Koutarou, which had been a separate, though equally enjoyable day.

Keiji hears a shuffling from the closet, but he decides to wait on it for the moment.

He strokes himself lazily, bringing him back to the fullness from before Koutarou had lost the momentum. He lets himself moan loudly, only a little in show, deciding which of the photos he wants to focus on.

He ponders. The tasty treat that is Koutarou in bunny ears? Keiji does like that photo. The ears had paired nicely with fishnets that honestly could make Keiji scream for how good they looked around Koutarou’s thighs. Keiji wants to dig his face in the muscular cleavage the bunny suit displayed. God, but Keiji loves Kou’s tits. He wants to lick a stripe right up Koutorou’s leg, starting with the back of the black shiny heel and ending with Koutarou’s cock.

He loses himself in the memories of when he had done just that. He turns on his side, facing the closet. Photo in one hand, he tugs from the base of his dick up to the head with his other hand. He bites his lip, repeating the movement, inviting a small grunt to escape past his lips. He works himself back up into fullness.

He sets the photo down to run a hand over his stomach, over his chest. His pinky passes over his nipple, causing him to shiver in response.

He grabs the dildo beside him. He gives it a teasing lick up the base, cheeks hollowing as he sucks on the head. He lets himself reminisce in the memory, lets himself fall back into memories of when Koutarou lets him bury his face in his thighs… his thighs, oh Koutarou’s thighs… How overwhelmed and secure he feels with thick trunks of thighs around his ears, how turned on and full with Kou’s thick cock weighing on his tongue, pressing into the back of his mouth.

He slides the dildo deeper into his throat, wishing it was warm, wishing it twitched like Koutarou does when he gets excited, wishing fingers would tangle into his hair and pull him forward.

He satisfies himself, however, with tonguing a familiar vein on the underside of the dildo, with familiar shapes. His other hand moves from his cock to the bottle of lube that had been left in the sheets.

He tries to pour some on his hand without losing focus on the sensations heavy on his tongue.

Cool lotion slips between his fingers onto the sheets, and Keiji ignores the mess he’s making to slide two fingers into himself. He groans again around the dildo. Fingers holding the toy drag along his bottom lip.

The dildo itself had been a gift from Koutarou. It had been made from a mold that Koutarou had found a kit for. They had made a day (again; they have fun) of preparing it, setting the mold, and casting the silicon. It had been bizarre and strange and fun in a way that was so iconically Koutarou.

At first, its purpose had been for when Koutarou would be away on long trips, lonely nights Keiji would fill with Koutarou’s voice over lonesome phone calls, if Keiji was lucky. The toy still has a place for such nights, when Keiji could not get time from work, and Koutarou would be on the other side of the country, his muscles rippling, slamming a volleyball down on an opponent’s side without Keiji in the stands to cheer him on.

The toy has also found a place in other fun activities the two have always enjoyed.

Keiji is not shy about the fact that he is obsessed with Koutarou, obsessed with Koutarou’s cock. Keiji does consider that it would be a strange gift for most, but Keiji appreciates how well Koutarou knows him. He especially appreciates these moments, when he can make good use of it. There is something incredibly satisfying about getting spitroast by Bokuto and only him.

He drags the dildo out over his lips with a satisfied lick over the head before setting it aside.

He chances a glance to the closet, and Koutarou is already half out from under the pile he has created for himself. He had a sock hanging over his head, in between the peaks of hair that give him his signature owlish look.

Keiji can’t help but laugh, light and breathy. He can’t help but feel an ache in his chest for how much he loves this man. His chest is fit to burst, because clearly all that love cannot fit in one body. Koutarou looks so silly. He looks so sexy. Keiji wants him so badly, in any and every way Koutarou will give.

He holds the eye contact as he brings his fingers down between his cheeks. Koutarou’s eyes are so mesmerizing. Dark and serious, so so sharp. Keiji’s eyelids fall shut, unable to bear the intensity of both Koutarou’s gaze and the sensation of two knuckles pushing past the rim.

Keiji scissors himself with his fingers, already loose from Koutarou’s earlier care. He pushes the digits in deeper, desperate for fullness.

He rolls over to his knees, pressing his face into the firm mattress to give himself a better angle.

He needs more, he thinks desperately as he pants into the luxuriously soft cotton sheets. He adds a third digit, and he fucks himself with them, sloppy and insane.

And it’s still not enough. He slides a condom on the toy and rubs lube up and down, absently perusing the other photos.

Koutorou, lifting weights, straining his delicious biceps.

Koutarou, gorgeous muscles covered in paint, Keiji’s own handprints trailing up and down taut skin.

Keiji huffs, unable to wait any longer. He slides the head of the dildo in, teasing the rim of his hole. God, that feels right. He groans again, the movement burning as he pushes the dildo further in. Koutarou had not gotten as far as he usually does in prep. Keiji likes it. Koutarou always takes such good care of him…

Well, Keiji feels less of a need to attend to himself so meticulously.

Keiji hears a rustle beside him that gives him pause.

Two gold eyes peak over the edge of the bed.

Keiji huffs a laugh, a little strained. “Hey,” he murmurs into the bedspread, turning his head to see his love better.

Koutarou’s large eyes focus on Keiji’s ass, at the point where the toy meets Keiji’s stretching hole, and Keiji stifles another laugh.

Keiji reaches a hand out to the edge of the bed, lying his hand on the bed in open invitation.

He waits a second. When Koutarou doesn’t reach back, he pulls back just long enough to turn on the vibrator of the dildo, before holding a hand out again.

Koutarou takes it.

Keiji hums in content. He turns over onto his back, his knees up and out, his heels digging into expensive silk.

The black of Koutarou’s eyes eclipse the outer gold. He’s lifted his head over the bed. Crawling up onto the soft sheets, he slips his fingers between Keiji’s.

Keiji hisses as he pushes the toy deeper. He clutches Koutarou’s hand in his own. Keiji could come from just this. He pulls the dildo back out, thrusting it in with purpose, fucking himself once again.

His lips fall open, parted in pleasure, as he brings the vibrator up against his prostrate. His toes curl against the sheets.

His groans reverberate in his chest.

The bed dips as Koutarou crawls down.

Keiji pulls the toy out to give the traction to push it back in forcefully.

Koutarou slips between Keiji’s legs, pushing his legs out to give himself a better view of Keiji dragging the toy in and out. He watches as Keiji presses the dildo deeper into himself. Keiji pants, moans, cries. His world becomes small, tiny. The world is only big enough to feel Koutarou’s fingers leave bruises on his thighs, only enough to feel Koutarou’s heavy gaze trail up and down Keiji’s flushed chest.

Koutarou’s fingers slide up Keiji’s thighs. Strong, purposeful palms skim over Keiji’s skin. Keiji shivers as his fingers trail behind him to grasp Keiji’s cheeks. Thick, heavy hands hold Keiji, spreading him apart.

Ah. The moment Keiji has been hoping for. Gold eyes send lightning splitting down Keiji’s spine.

“Can I fuck you? Can I rim you? Can I fuck you?” Koutarou babbles in between desperate open-mouthed kisses in between Keiji’s thighs. “Please, Keiji, please, please, please say yes, please say I can fuck you, please let me,” he continues as teeth scrape into Keiji’s upper thigh. Keiji writhes at the contact.

“Keiji, baby, Keiji, you’ll let me love you right? You’ll let me bury my cock in your pretty little hole? You’ll let me do that, right?” Koutarou asks, his tongue moving up Keiji’s thigh, soothing over the bites. He sucks at the skin, and Keiji cries out.

He nods furiously, his everything focused solely on where Koutarou is touching him. His hands fly up to cover his mouth as he lets out vulnerable whimpers.

“Sweetheart, baby,” Koutarou groans. Keiji cannot bear it. He cannot.

Kou’s fingers brush around Keiji’s entrance pushes the toy in and out of Keiji.

Keiji chokes. His fingers splay against his cheeks, not quite looking for grip, but needing purchase.

Finally, finally, _finally_ , Koutarou pulls the toy out fully.

Keiji releases several breaths of air. He looks up at Kou on his knees, a hungry grin painted under hungrier eyes. Koutaro lifts Keiji’s hips up with a smug grin. Keiji adores him.

“Are you ready, baby? Are you ready for my thick cock to push into this pretty little hole of yours?” he asks. He pushes his thumbs to spread Keiji’s rim open as he asks.

“Please!” is all Keiji can manage, whining and begging, labored and heavy with want.

Koutarou smirks. Keiji feels a flush spread from his ears down into his toes.

Kou lifts Keiji’s hips up and pistons deep into Keiji, evoking a deep moan from them both. Keiji savors the burning stretch, revels in the new fullness.

Once buried to the hilt, Kou pulls Keiji’s thighs, wrapping Keiji’s legs around his waist.

“God, you look great like this,” Koutarou huffs. He leans down, his face close enough press a kiss to Keiji’s cheek.

Keiji pants, another strangled whine pushed out of him as Koutarou thrusts deep into him.

Koutarou grunts. He mouths kisses over Keiji’s face, until he leaves a bite at the corner of Keiji’s jaw.

Keiji wraps his arms around Kou’s neck, grasping for purchase, his nails digging streaks across his lover’s skin. He leaves his hands at either end of Keiji’s ribs, propping himself up.

Koutarou moves his hips in measured, thoughtful snaps. Keiji becomes undone.

Koutarou pushes a strand of hair away from Keiji’s face as he trusts deep inside. “You’re so beautiful. So beautiful. I want to eat you alive.”

He’s not fair, he’s so unfair. Keiji wants to cry. Keiji wants to eat _him_ alive. Keiji wants to be _eaten_ alive.

Koutarou trails his nose down Keiji’s neck, the soft touch making Keiji insane. Koutarou bites deep where Keiji’s shoulder meets his neck, the movement far from distracting his thoughtful fucking.

Keiji groans, a tension building inside him, a pressure long overdue.

Koutarou whispers dirty nothings over Keiji’s skin as he pushes his cock into Keiji over and over.

Keiji whines, closer and closer to the edge.

Koutarou must be able to tell, as he slides a hand down between them, tugging quick strokes on Keij’s cock. Keiji clings tighter to him, squeezing his eyes shut as he comes.

Koutarou grunts, continuing to fuck Keiji as Keiji shivers in his arms. Keiji uses his legs to pull Koutarou closer.

Koutarou lifts Keiji up, pushing his legs down from around him.

Keiji whines, but Koutarou continues the push to move Keiji to his stomach.

“This okay, sweetheart?” he murmurs into Keiji’s neck, between quick kisses. “Can I fuck you like this, baby?”

Keiji nods with another whine, human speech beyond him. Koutarou bites a feral grin into the back of Keiji’s neck, and Keiji cries out from the feeling of it.

Koutarou wraps arms around to Keiji’s front. His hands cup around Keiji’s chest, massaging at Keiji’s pecs around his nipples.

Keiji writhes underneath him. His face is flushed and he bites his lip, enjoying Kou’s weight against him.

Koutarou continues to fuck him from behind, biting deeper into Keiji’s neck. He catches Keiji’s nipples between his fingers, rubbing them as he thrusts deeper and deeper with the new position.

Keijii pants into the pillow. He's aware enough to know he’s drooling, but not so aware that he can find to be insecure.

“Gorgeous,” Koutarou murmurs, sounding almost as awed as Keiji feels. “So gorgeous,” he says, giving another rough bite into Keiji’s shoulders.

“Going to let me come between your gorgeous thighs, baby?” Koutarou asks, and Keiji can hear the smug, vicious smile in his question.

“Please!” Keiji says roughly, breath being forced from his lungs.

“That right?” Koutarou asks, “You want me to dirty up your pretty little ass?”

“Please, please, please,” Keiji babbles, already having lost himself in the moment.

Koutarou comes with another deep grunt. Keiji flushes at the sound.

Koutarou stays inside him, for moment, and Keiji can almost hear the wheels spinning in Kou’s head, as Keiji himself comes back to his senses.

Koutarou lifts himself up, turning Keiji so he could spoon Keiji from behind.

Keiji sighs contentedly in his husband’s thick arms.

Koutarou smiles into his neck, mouthing a few soothing laps into where he had bitten Keiji’s neck.

“Love you,” he says with a sing-song.

“Love you, too,” Keiji mutters, snuggling his face into his lover’s impressive pecs.

Koutarou repositions, sliding his hands once again to Keiji’s chest. Keiji huffs a laugh.

“Love your chest,” Koutarou whispers.

“Love your cock,” Keiji says, and Koutarou breaks into a deep, full bodied laugh. Keiji chuckles.

“It’s so funny how you can say that in such a deadpan!” Kou says, laughing even louder.

Keiji can’t help but laugh louder as well, the movement of Koutarou’s chest moving his own.

Koutarou continues laughing, before depositing a flurry of kisses up and down Keiji’s back.

“Can we cuddle longer?” Koutarou asks.

“Of course, love,” Keiji says with a smile, pulling one of Kou’s hands up to place a kiss into his palm.

“Cool,” Koutarou says with a hum of content.

Then, a minute later, “Can we have some of our new ice cream after?”

“Absolutely,” Keiji says, already looking forward to it.


End file.
